


Kitchen Christening

by 50_points_for_ravenclaw



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Derek Hale, and some stupid banter, because when are they ever not doing that?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3534626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50_points_for_ravenclaw/pseuds/50_points_for_ravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is tired. Stiles procrastinates a lot. They do the do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kitchen Christening

Stiles groaned, throwing his pen down onto the table in front of him and falling back into his chair with a long sigh. Dragging his hands over his face and up into his hair, he contemplated just not writing this essay. It couldn’t be that important right? After a quick check of the syllabus, he determined he was very very wrong (it was 30% of his final grade). With another groan of frustration, he picked up his pen again, staring down at his book with its lack of notes or highlights with a glare.

“Couldn’t you just try being a little less boring?” he whined.

Before the book could get a chance to answer (Stiles realized he might be slipping into insanity), the sound of keys fumbling in the lock came from the front door and Derek stepped inside. He looked just as tired as Stiles felt. His usually pressed button down was wrinkled and untucked, his hair was falling out of its carefully styled waves, and his eyes were drooped and lowered. Stiles almost felt bad about complaining.

“Hey,” Stiles greeted, softly, standing up to walk over and wrap his arms around Derek’s waist. The older man sighed contently, letting his messenger bag fall to the ground with a thump and relax into his boyfriend’s hold. “You look exhausted.”

“Exhausting day,” Derek mumbled into his shoulder.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Stiles asked.

“Not hungry,” came the reply.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed. You’re lucky it’s Friday and you can sleep in tomorrow,” Stiles said as he pulled away, taking Derek’s hand and pulling him toward the bedroom.

“It’s only 7:30,” Derek protested but he made no move to fight Stiles’ guidance.

Stiles simply raised an eyebrow, pushing Derek onto the bed and moving to take his shoes off. He stripped his boyfriend down until he was in nothing but boxers then removed his own clothes so he was much the same. Falling into the bed, he pulled Derek up so his head was resting on a pillow and then curled into his chest.

“Are you even tired?” Derek asked sleepily, his eyes already closed and his breathing already slowing.

“Doesn’t matter,” Stiles answered, quietly. He placed a gentle kiss to Derek’s shoulder. “Now go to sleep.”

Derek didn’t wait to follow the order and was asleep in just a couple minutes. Stiles almost envied how easy it was for Derek when it took him an hour on average to fall asleep but at the moment he was glad. He could tell Derek was more tired than usual.

Stiles spent the next forty-five minutes watching Derek’s chest rise and fall in his sleep, thinking of his paper and his other assignment for Economics (a class he didn’t even want to take but was required to) and their plans to drive back to Beacon Hills next weekend and visit his dad, Melissa, and Scott and Cora (who would be visiting at the same time). He couldn’t shut his brain off—the reason why he could never fall asleep very quickly—but eventually the rhythm of Derek’s breathing and the feeling of his arm wrapped around Stiles’ waist were enough to lull him into sleep.

++++++++

Stiles was awake well before Derek, probably a first for their relationship, but he didn’t sweat the fact that he’d woken up at 8 in the morning too much since he had fallen asleep so early the night before. Getting out of bed as noiselessly and gently as possible, Stiles moved to relieve himself in the bathroom and then yawn his way into the kitchen. He held out on starting the coffee since he didn’t know how long Derek would be sleeping and moved straight to where his laptop was still open on the breakfast bar. He fell onto a stool there and woke up his computer.

“Please tell me you have good news,” he whispered to himself while he waited for his e-mail to load.

It took a moment for the e-mail labelled as having been sent from a ‘Dr. Deaton’ really registered and Stiles gasped excitedly, suddenly much more awake and clicked on it immediately. He skimmed the preliminary greeting until he got to what he was really interested in and soon found himself grinning like an idiot at his screen.

“Oh my god,” he breathed. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

The words ‘ _I would be delighted to meet with you and discuss…_ ’ were now tattooed into his brain. He jumped up from his seat just barely managing to keep the stool from toppling over and did a small happy dance right there, manic grin still in place. One of the most renowned Nordic Mythology Folklorists in the nation (who also just happened to be coming to Berkeley for a lecture) actually agreed to speak with him about his dissertation. Technically, Stiles wasn’t in graduate school yet but he’d already talked to everyone he needed to in the History Department and had his topic okayed so he could go ahead and begin research. Apparently he was the first student to ever start his dissertation before ever graduating from undergrad.

Stiles felt the urge to run into the bedroom and jump on top of Derek and yell about the good news. He refrained though, knowing Derek needed his sleep and instead fidgeted in his seat the entire time he sat there checking the rest of his e-mails and responding. The stupid grin that had stretched across his face never really left and he even found himself occasionally chuckling in disbelief.

By the time Stiles was finished checking all his necessary sites, he looked at the clock, seeing the numbers blinking 9:30. He decided to use the extra energy he’d gained from his good mood to get up and start cooking breakfast, an act so rare, Derek would probably faint if he saw him. Frying the bacon took only about forty five minutes and cooking a sizable pile of pancakes about twenty more. Satisfied with his work, he divided the food between two plates, grabbed syrup, butter, and utensils along with a mug of coffee that he’d made before starting the pancakes and a glass of orange juice, and placed them all on a food tray which he carried to the bedroom as carefully as he could.

Derek was rolled over onto his stomach when Stiles stepped into the room, snuggling into a pillow and breathing loudly against its fabric with an open mouth. The sight of his sleep rumpled hair and soft expression made Stiles smile as he set the tray down on their dresser and crawled onto the bed, hovering over Derek.

“Derek,” he called quietly, leaning down to kiss between the man’s shoulder blades when he didn’t answer. “Derek, wake up. I have something for you.”

Derek shifted, pushing his face farther into the pillow. Stiles huffed a small laugh and leaned lower so that his chest was almost touching Derek’s back.

“Come on, Derek. Wake up. You’ve been asleep for like fifteen hours anyways,” he said into his ear and Derek tensed a bit under him. Stiles smirked, knowing his boyfriend was awake even though his eyes remained shut. After a pause, he leaned down kissed the back of Derek’s neck, moving slowly toward his ear where he sucked Derek’s earlobe between lips and teeth gently. Derek groaned a little, fidgeting beneath him.

“Don’t start something you won’t be finishing,” he said hoarsely and Stiles smiled.

Letting Derek flip over onto his back, Stiles settled back down in his lap, straddling his hips and ignoring the feeling of Derek’s morning erection pressing against his ass. As much as he would love to jump his hot as the sun boyfriend, he refused to let his breakfast go to waste.

“I brought you something,” Stiles said softly, flashing the smile he reserved only for Derek. Derek’s expression grew soft as he gazed up at the younger man, eyes tracing the pattern of his moles across pale skin. They continued to follow Stiles when he went to grab the tray of food.

“You made breakfast?” Derek asked, incredulously.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Stiles shot back, sending him a glare with no heat.

“And why shouldn’t I be?”

Stiles stuck his tongue out at him childishly while he settled against the headboard next to Derek, handing the coffee off to him.

“I figured you deserved it,” Stiles said seriously after Derek had already began munching on a strip of bacon. “You’ve been working really hard lately. The least I can do is make you some breakfast in bed.”

Derek stared at him for a moment with that soft look on his face that always made Stiles’ stomach swoop. It was as if he was in awe of the man beside him and Stiles just couldn’t believe that that could be true.

“Thank you,” Derek murmured, leaning over to kiss Stiles’ cheek.

Stiles beamed in return and they dug into the food. They were mostly quiet while they ate but Derek seemed to notice Stiles’ pent up excitement because he kept shooting the constantly fidgeting man amused glances as he chewed.

“Something going on?” he asked eventually and Stiles’ eyes snapped over to him.

“Well, I have some news,” Stiles conceded. Derek simply raised a brow in return. “Dr. Deaton may have e-mailed me back and he may have agreed to meet with me when he’s in town and discuss my research with me.”

Derek stilled for a minute and then broke out one of his rare grins. Moving the tray with its empty plates to the floor, he pulled Stiles into his lap, nuzzling his neck and kissing the skin there. Stiles laughed, running his fingers through the man’s sleep mussed hair.

“That’s great,” Derek said into his neck.

“Yeah…I may have also danced around the kitchen.”

Derek chuckled, nipping at his boyfriend’s collarbone before leaning back to smile up at him. Stiles, seemingly losing his restraint, leaned forward and kissed him deeply, sighing when Derek immediately followed along. After a moment, Derek pulled away with a sheepish smirk.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet and I just drank coffee. I doubt I taste too great right now,” he said.

“Don’t care,” Stiles answered, moving in for another kiss, this time letting his tongue slip in to tangle with Derek’s. The older man let it happen for another minute before pulling back.

“You haven’t brushed your teeth yet either have you?” he asked suspiciously.

“I was waiting until after I ate. It feels kind of pointless to do it before,” Stiles shrugged.

Derek rolled his eyes, pecking him on the lips once more before sliding out from under him and standing up with a hand held out. “Come on,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom. Stiles almost tripped over himself to comply. He couldn’t help that showers with his boyfriend were one of his favorite pass times.

After they’d both thoroughly brushed their teeth, Derek guided Stiles into the shower, proceeding to slowly run his hands along the younger man’s shoulders and back, massaging the muscles there and adding soap as he went. Stiles groaned, relaxing into his hold letting his head fall forward onto Derek’s shoulder.

“Shouldn’t I be doing this for you?” he slurred, jerking a little when Derek ran his hands lower and over the globes of his ass, massaging there, too.

“Consider it a thank you for breakfast,” Derek said quietly. He gave a short kiss to Stiles’ shoulder before turning him around and pulling him back against his chest. Continuing to massage his muscles, he added some soap to his chest and smoothed it in, moving lower and lower at a teasingly slow pace. He could see that Stiles was already getting hard from his ministrations and smiled into his neck, biting at the skin there.

“Der…” Stiles mumbled around a groan.

“I’ve got you,” Derek said.

He traced his fingers down the shape of Stiles’ stomach, diverting his path to his hips and upper thighs. Stiles almost whined at the lack of attention to his cock, which stood at full attention. He would laugh at himself for getting so aroused so quickly but honestly, everything Derek did made him feel this way.

“Derek…please,” he whimpered, pushing his face into the other man’s neck.

Derek smiled a little, sucking at the joint between Stiles’ neck and shoulder while moving one hand back up to circle his nipple. His other hand moved to loosely grip Stiles and the younger man moaned, bucking his hips a little to try and gain friction. Using the soap and water to slick him up, Derek began to stroke him slowly, all the while sucking at his neck and playing with his nipple.

“Der!” Stiles gasped, pressing back into his chest. He could feel Derek’s own erection pressing between his ass cheeks and tried to grind his hips against it. Derek tensed, breathing into his shoulder a little harder, and quickened his pace just enough to make Stiles quiver.

“You always look so amazing like this,” Derek said lowly, his voice hoarse with arousal and Stiles shivered. “All flushed and trembling. Jesus, you have no idea what you do to me.”

He ignored the throbbing in his groin, twisting his hand on the upstroke in hopes of hearing the moan Stiles had just let out again. He wasn’t disappointed. Stiles was never very quiet during sex and it drove him absolutely crazy. Sometimes he thought he could get off on the sounds alone.

“Oh god…Der…feels so good,” Stiles babbled, throwing his head back and exposing the long line of his neck.

Derek practically growled at the sight, attaching his lips to the newly exposed skin and sucking hard. Nipping at the skin, he relieved the red skin with his tongue and repeated the process. Stiles was rocking into his grip now, unable to stop the movement of his hips as his legs shook and a hand shot up to tangle in Derek’s wet hair.

“Please, Der…I need…I,” he moaned brokenly.

“What do you need, Stiles?” Derek demanded, hot breathe hitting Stiles’ already warm skin.

“Just…more...please, Der…more.”

Derek moved the hand that had been caressing Stiles’ nipples to drag around his back, slipping a finger into the cleft of his ass.

“Oh God, yes,” Stiles breathed.

Derek chuckled, slipping his finger lower until it was probing at Stiles’ rim, still stroking him at a steady pace and even running his thumb over the tip of his cock every few upstrokes. Stiles was a wreck, hips thrusting aimlessly, panting into Derek’s ear. He let out a long moan, voice cracking at its force when Derek eased a finger inside him, stroking gently at his walls while he adjusted. The soap and water provided some smoothness but they weren’t nearly as sufficient so Derek was careful to go slow while he searched for Stiles’ prostate.

“I’m…I’m close,” Stiles groaned before gasping loudly, hips stuttering in their rhythm and Derek grinned against his neck, pushing his finger up against his prostate once more. “Shit…oh god…I’m gonna…Derek!”

Derek stroked him quickly, pumping his finger in and out of his tight hole just a few more times before Stiles arched away from him, coming over his hand with a long moan loud enough to echo within the bathroom. He kept up with a loose grip until Stiles was whimpering at the overstimulation and he pulled away, slipping his finger from his ass as well. Stiles watched in a daze as Derek brought his fingers up to his lips and sucked the come from each one while holding his gaze. Stiles groaned, closing his eyes.

“You are trying to kill me. I knew it,” he huffed.

Derek laughed, turning him around to kiss him, letting Stiles taste himself on his lips. The younger man wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer, brushing against Derek’s erection. He pulled away with a mischievously raised brow, glancing down before grinning and dropping to his knees. Gently pushing Derek back against the wall of the shower, he mouthed at the skin around his groin sloppily.

“Stiles I’m too close for teasing—please,” Derek said through gritted teeth while he watched him. The sly smirk Stiles sent him made his stomach twist.

Stiles wrapped his lips around the head of his dick, swirling his tongue around the slit before sinking all the way down, nosing at the hairs nestled at the base. Derek cursed, dropping his head back against the wall and winding his fingers into the short hairs at the top of Stiles’ head. He was not ashamed to admit that he loved the fact that his boyfriend could deep throat.

Stiles kept up a relentless pace, bobbing his head and flexing his tongue along the underside of Derek’s cock as he went, intent on pushing Derek over the edge as fast as possible. And it was going to be fast. Derek could already feel heat pooling in his gut and his balls tensing up. Stiles went a bit further, bringing a hand up to cradle his balls and massage at his perineum.

Derek groaned tightening his grip in Stiles hair, vaguely registering that it might be too tight but too far gone to really do anything about it. Instead, his muscles locked up and let his orgasm wash over him, coming down Stiles’ throat with no warning and his hips jerking forward. Stiles coughed, pulling back and the last of Derek’s come dribbled onto his chin in an unfairly lewd way.

“Sorry,” Derek gasped, loosening his grip on the other man’s hair.

Stiles only grinned though, standing and swiping at the spunk on his chin with a finger and popping it into his mouth. He winked when Derek moaned at the sight and pulled him flush against him.

“Payback,” Stiles whispered against his lips and Derek chuckled.

They met in a slow kiss, letting the remarkably still warm water fall over them as they tried to recover enough to actually wash up. It took them another ten minutes to actually shower and by the time they got out, the water was ice cold and they were shivering as they laughed into each other’s necks while they dried off.

“As much as I would love to continue this in the bedroom,” Stiles mumbled, “I really need to get started on that essay. It’s due Monday.”

Derek nodded, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ temple and giving up the towel so Stiles could brave the cold of the bedroom. He waited a moment to give his boyfriend some time to get dressed because he knew if he saw the younger man out there completely naked, he probably wouldn’t be able to hold himself back.

When he eventually made it back out into the living space, Derek found Stiles already at the breakfast bar, pouring into a book with highlighter in hand and his laptop opened to a new Word document. He chuckled at the sight, taking the dishes from breakfast that he’d snagged on his way out of the bedroom to the sink to wash them. Stiles didn’t seem to notice his entrance, too engrossed in his work.

The day felt long and relaxed as Derek went about tidying up their apartment, working around Stiles’ still figure, before spreading out on the couch with a book. He had momentarily thought about trying to do some work from home but then immediately vetoed that idea. He’s already had enough of work this week. Instead, he focused on the book he had been meaning to read for a few weeks now and lost himself for the next few hours. Next thing he knew, the time was approaching 8pm and they had yet to eat anything since that morning.

“Did you get a lot done?” Derek asked as he meandered into the kitchen, running a hand along Stiles’ shoulders as he went.

Stiles sighed, looking away from his laptop and blinking his eyes a few times in order to adjust and gazed up at his boyfriend wearily. “I guess,” he shrugged. “I’m a little over half way there so hopefully I can have it done pretty early tomorrow and relax.”

Derek smiled encouragingly, holding up a box of uncooked spaghetti as a question which Stiles replied to with a nod.

“You want some help?” Stiles asked.

“No I’ve got it. You made breakfast,” Derek answered, already gathering the things he would need to make sauce. “Just relax for a little bit.”

Despite Derek’s request, Stiles settled back into his essay, zoning out once more and the older man rolled his eyes. One day he swore Stiles would kill himself with the way he procrastinated things.

It didn’t take long for Derek to make dinner. He soon found himself making two plates of spaghetti (extra parmesan for Stiles and extra sauce for himself) and joining Stiles at the breakfast bar. Stiles didn’t immediately notice his presence so Derek carefully nudged the laptop away from his fingers with an amused smile as the younger man looked up at him confused.

“Dinner is ready,” Derek stated, with a raised brow and a glance down at Stiles’ designated plate.

Stiles’ expression cleared and grinned at the other man, taking up his fork and digging in. “Thanks,” he mumbled around a bite.

Derek shook his head but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He watched conspicuously while Stiles ate, taking his own absentminded bites. The younger man ate hurriedly, like he always did—as if he hadn’t eaten in days. For some reason, Derek found it charming, though he would never admit that out loud. He’d already grown too soft.

Stiles was quick to finish eating, leaving little room for talking, before he turned back to his laptop with a determined glare and Derek sighed. He resolved himself to cleaning the dishes and settling in to watch some TV before bed. Almost nothing could deter Stiles once he’d set his mind to something.

Once he had cleaned the dishes though, he remained in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter with a thoughtful expression as Stiles sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. Derek narrowed his eyes at the sight. After a moment, he moved around the counter, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and kissed his neck softly.

“Take a break,” he murmured into the skin there.

Stiles sighed again, relaxing into his hold and staring at his laptop as if it was an evil villain ready to attack (though to Stiles…that’s probably exactly what it was). “I just want to get as much done tonight as I can so we can spend tomorrow together.”

“Or…” Derek said, turning Stiles around on the stool to face him, “we could spend the rest of tonight together. Starting now.”

Stiles grimaced glancing back his laptop. Derek growled a little, pulling his chin back around and pressed a bruising kiss against the younger man’s lips. They quickly fell into a rhythm, lips slotting together with practiced ease and breathes mingling hotly. Before they could get farther, Stiles pulled away.

“I know what you’re doing,” he stated breathlessly but Derek only dropped down to suck at his pulse. “I need to finish this Der.”

“You can finish it tomorrow,” Derek argued from where he was nibbling a bruise into Stiles’ neck.

“Derek…”

Derek didn’t answer, choosing to interrupt whatever argument Stiles was about to use by kissing him again, letting their tongues mingle slowly. He pulled away with a nibble of Stiles’ bottom lip after a few minutes, both needing air. Stiles’ eyes were blown wide, pupils dilated and his cheeks were flushed red, the color traveling all the way down to where the collar of his shirt rested at the base of his throat. That was probably Derek’s favorite thing about Stiles’ appearance—the way his skin so easily changed from its pale white to a splotchy pink or deep bruised blue.

Derek shifted closer, between the V of Stiles’ legs, which automatically wrapped around his waist. He hitched the younger man up from there with strong hands clutching at Stiles’ thighs to keep him in place and stepped around the counter, placing him where he had just cooked dinner not thirty minutes before.

“What are you doing?” Stiles mumbled as Derek peppered kisses against his lips.

“I don’t think we’ve christened the kitchen yet,” Derek answered simply with a smirk.

Stiles gaped at him in return before grinning and pulling him closer so their chests were pressed flush against each other and their lips met once again. From there their movements grew more aggressive, trying to take each other’s clothes off without separating—something they were realizing was impossible. Stiles laughed when Derek tried to pull his shirt over his head only to get it caught on their still joined lips. They pulled away, smiling at each other and yanked their own shirts off quickly.

Derek wasted no time unbuttoning Stiles’ jeans, lifting the younger man’s hips up with one hand while he yanked the offensive garment down with the other. He gave up once he had Stiles’ pants down at his knees though, choosing to slide his hands back up Stiles’ thigh’s until he’d reached the growing tent of his boxers and palmed him slowly. Stiles groaned, letting his head fall back and thrusting his hips forward.

“You are the worst distraction,” Stiles sighed, peering up at Derek with half-lidded eyes.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Derek said.

“When do you ever _not_ take something I say as a compliment?”

Derek nipped at Stiles’ collarbone, a little harder than usual, in retaliation and Stiles’ hips jerked in response, a gasp bursting past his open lips. He dug his fingers into Derek’s hips, yanking him closer until they were pressed completely together, erections grinding in a way that had them both moaning.

“I really hope you meant to go all the way with this,” Stiles whispered as Derek’s hands travelled up his chest, caressing the muscles there and delicately brushing over his nipples. “Because I don’t think I can handle anything less than your dick in my ass right now.”

Derek snorted, reaching into his back pocket and withdrawing two packets, one of lube and the other, a condom—he’d gotten them earlier just in case.

“You have such a way with words” he responded drily. He placed the packets on the counter.

“Yeah well you’re not dating me for my excellent speech writing skills,” Stiles retorted.

Derek hummed thoughtfully while he pressed wet kisses into Stiles’ neck again, running his fingers down Stiles’ sides until he reached his boxers, where he toyed with the waistband.

“You’re not, right?”

Derek leaned back and gave him a blank look with one raised brow.

“I just wanted to make sure,” Stiles said with a grin.

“Shut up,” Derek said in return.

“Make me.”

Derek narrowed his eyes at the challenge before diving in to kiss his boyfriend roughly, mouths sliding against each other and tongues darting. He yanked Stiles’ boxers down enough to reveal his erection, full and glistening with a small drop of precome at the tip. Derek didn’t waste any time wrapping a hand around the length.

“Going right for it are you?” Stiles panted, fighting back a moan as he broke away from the kiss.

“You’re still talking so apparently I haven’t done my job yet,” Derek answered.

He immediately fell to a crouch that leveled his face with Stiles’ cock and leaned forward to lick a stripe up the underside while ignoring the tightness of the muscles in his legs. This would have to be quick if he didn’t want to cramp. With that thought, Derek sucked Stiles down, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head while he used one hand to stroke whatever he couldn’t fit into his mouth.

“Jesus, you’re in a hurry,” Stiles groaned, head falling back while one hand fell to tangle long fingers into Derek’s hair. Derek moaned his approval and Stiles’ hips jerked at the sensation.

“Shit okay, Derek—if you want this to go any farther you should probably—oh my god!” Stiles interrupted himself, gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles as Derek sank all the way down, nose nudging at the curls nestled at the bottom of his dick. “Seriously I—ah!—am not going to—nghh, Der—”

Just as Stiles was feeling like he might explode, Derek pulled off with a lewd pop and stood back up. Stiles whined at the loss, his body relaxing in defeat at the realization he was not going to be coming any time soon.

“You’re the worst,” he mumbled, even as he lifted his hips so that Derek could pull his boxers all the way down, finally discarding his jeans completely along with them.

“You love me,” Derek threw back. He picked up the packet of lube, tearing it open easily and slicking up his fingers.

“What gave you that idea?” The cheeky grin on Stiles’ face was enough to make Derek smile in return, leaning forward to kiss him softly as lubed up fingers teased at the younger man’s entrance.

“Well if you didn’t already tell me every time I give you an orgasm…” Stiles glared at him halfheartedly. Derek simply grinned, pressing a finger inside. “I’d probably be able to tell by the way you act with Cora.” He thrusted his finger forward gently, reveling in the sound of Stiles’ sigh. “Or when you cook me breakfast in bed just because.” Stiles huffed out a laugh. “Or those moments when you look at me and you think I don’t notice…” Derek added another finger. “…and it feels like everything is gone and it’s just you and me.” Derek was leaning his forehead against Stiles’ now, the latter man’s cheeks having flushed a rosy pink and mouth opened just a bit as he moaned softly.

“Didn’t realize you were such a sap,” Stiles breathed, voice teasing but fond.

“You should know that about me by now,” Derek replied.

He added another finger, pushing in and out with three fingers now, crooking them just so until he felt Stiles jerk beneath him and the younger man let out a low moan. Derek continued to hit his prostate, not bothering to speed up the pace.

“Derek, please,” Stiles huffed into his shoulder where he was mouthing at any skin he could reach. “Please, I need you now. Come on.”

Derek smiled, leaning forward to press a slow kiss against Stiles’ lips before pulling away completely much to Stiles’ frustration. He made quick work of his jeans, his progress slowed by the fact that Stiles had decided to wrap his limbs around him like an octopus and nip and lick at his collarbone. With as much precision as was possible in his situation (he hadn’t been touched at all yet and it was beginning to make him feel a little cross-eyed), Derek swiped the condom from the counter, ripping it open with his teeth and quickly rolling it on.

“Derek, hurry. Come on,” Stiles mumbled continuously, reaching to tug Derek closer by his hips. “Please, Der. Please.”

Derek quieted him with a rough kiss, pushing in at the same time and tensing as he _finally_ received some stimulation of his own. Stiles continued to pull at his hips, trying to get him to go deeper and Derek complied, beginning to thrust in deeply. They rocked together, having to support each other when Stiles start slipping against the counter or Derek lost his grip on Stiles’ thighs where they were wrapped around his hips.

“I love you so much,” Stiles said around a moan, his head falling back to expose his neck to Derek’s tongue. “And I’m not just—I’m not just saying that because you’re—nghh—because you’re fucking me—oh shit!”

Derek pressed closer with a breathy laugh, speeding up his movements in order to chase after his rapidly approaching orgasm.

“I really do love you,” Stiles continued to babble. “Like so much you don’t even—don’t even know, man. Jesus, Derek.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek said, looking up to see Stiles staring at him.

“Make me,” Stiles answered with a mischievous grin.

Derek narrowed his eyes although he was fighting back a smile, before pulling away only to pound back into Stiles who bit his lips to hold in a loud moan, cursing under his breath. After that, it didn’t take long for either to reach the edge, Stiles falling over first as Derek stroked him in time with his thrusts. He came with a long moan, squeezing around Derek enough that the older man joined him with just a few more thrusts. They lay there panting for a few moments, Derek just barely able to stop himself from collapsing against Stiles by bracketing his arms around him to hold himself up with the counter.

“I really do love you, you know,” Stiles muttered from where he’d pressed his face into Derek’s neck.

“I love you, too, Stiles,” Derek returned with an exasperated tone but Stiles could hear the smile in his words.

They were quiet for a minute, letting their breathing slow and their bodies relax. Even though the position wasn’t too comfortable, it was easy to forget that in their post-orgasm bliss and neither felt an immediate need to move.

“The breakfast in bed was just a onetime thing. Don’t expect that to happen again any time soon,” Stiles said eventually. Derek laughed, pressing kisses into Stiles’ shoulder.

He could live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies for the crappy title and summary. Couldn't really bother with anything better.
> 
> Tumblr: http://50-points-for-ravenclaw.tumblr.com/


End file.
